Then she left,
undoing strands
twined by hand,
our warp and woof.
Now how to learn
that never again
shall we spin,
shall I yearn
to twist and ply
and interleave
sheets I believe
are strings to tie?
Poetry by George Lang
Then she left,
undoing strands
twined by hand,
our warp and woof.
Now how to learn
that never again
shall we spin,
shall I yearn
to twist and ply
and interleave
sheets I believe
are strings to tie?